When 74 out of 154 students at a high school cannot read at their grade level it is not just a school’s problem; it is Jamaica’s. And it is not merely a literacy crisis; it is a leadership crisis.

The Gleaner headline, ‘Pembroke Hall High faces literacy crisis’, published on June 10, 2025, offered a shocking statistic. But for many educators and parents this is neither shocking nor new. For years Jamaica has been quietly haemorrhaging readers, particularly among young boys and students from working-class communities. It is as though we are handing our children pens without ink and telling them to write their futures. And it is killing their potential silently, systemically, and avoidably.

Reading is power. It is the bridge to opportunity, the ladder out of poverty, and the first step to self-actualisation. A child who cannot read cannot fully participate in society. As the late Professor Rex Nettleford, former vice chancellor of The University of the West Indies, once observed, we cannot ask the people to rise without giving them the means to see where they are going. Literacy is that vision. But as Jamaican dub poet and public intellectual Mutabaruka famously said: We speak a language we do not write, and write a language we do not speak. That paradox lies at the heart of our literacy dilemma.

Most Jamaican children enter school speaking Jamaican Patois, a fully formed language with consistent grammar, vocabulary, and expressive capacity. But they are expected to learn English, a foreign language, without structured guidance. English is the language of textbooks and tests. Jamaican is the language of home, emotion, and thought. This dissonance is not just linguistic; it is psychological. It alienates students from learning before they have even started.

WE HAVE BEEN WARNED…

Linguists have long called for a more inclusive, bilingual approach. The Jamaican Language Unit (JLU) at The University of the West Indies has repeatedly argued for the use of Jamaican as a bridge to literacy, not a barrier. Their research shows that when children are taught first in the language they understand, they learn better including learning English more effectively.

UNESCO has affirmed this globally. Mother tongue instruction in early education improves literacy outcomes and educational equity. Yet, Jamaican policymakers have hesitated, reluctant to challenge colonial-era perceptions of English as superior and Jamaican as “broken”. That’s not leadership; that’s fear.

We are failing our children not because they are lazy, but because our system is linguistically dishonest and politically timid. We act as though our students’ first language is a problem to be corrected, instead of the foundation on which all learning should be built. The consequences are dire.

According to Sutton et al (2024), students from volatile communities show the greatest gains when multi-sensory, culturally relevant, and bilingual literacy tools are used. Yet these are rarely deployed at scale. Meanwhile, the World Bank’s 2022 report noted that Jamaica’s human capital index remains low largely because literacy levels drag down long-term productivity and earnings. The silence of national leadership on this issue is thunderous.

IT’S ABOUT IDENTITY

When a nation refuses to validate the language of its people it undermines their identity. It tells them, from their first day in school, that their voice does not count. This is not just educational malpractice; it is a form of cultural violence.

Imagine being taught to read using words and sentence structures you have never heard at home. Imagine your grandmother’s stories, your mother’s lullabies, and your community’s speech patterns all declared irrelevant or incorrect. That’s what many Jamaican students experience daily. It is like teaching a child to swim by throwing them into the deep end and blaming them when they drown.

If this crisis is not about lazy students or ineffective teachers, then what is it about? It is about a lack of courageous leadership at every level; leadership that is reactive, not visionary. Leaders who chase international benchmarks but ignore local realities. Leadership that celebrates buzzwords like “inclusive education” while excluding the one thing that makes inclusion real — language.

Jamaica needs leaders who understand that to truly raise a nation we must first meet its children where they are linguistically, emotionally, and culturally.

BUILDING LITERACY FROM THE GROUND UP

We cannot keep patching the roof when the foundation is weak. Here is what we need instead:

1) An official bilingual policy

Recognise Jamaican and English as co-official in primary schools. Teach English as a second language, not as an assumed mother tongue.

2) Train teachers in bilingual pedagogy

Equip educators with the tools to teach both Jamaican and English literacy with cultural competence.

3) Every teacher must be a teacher of literacy

Literacy is not the sole responsibility of language teachers. It must be embedded across all subject areas. Whether a teacher is explaining a biology diagram or guiding a religious education discussion, they are also modelling how to read, interpret, and articulate meaning. Literacy is everyone’s job, because without it no subject can be truly accessed. If reading is the door, then every teacher holds a key.

4) Develop and distribute bilingual textbooks

The JLU has pioneered these efforts, but they need national support to scale up.

5) Reinforce family literacy

Engage parents through community reading programmes in both Jamaican and English, emphasising storytelling, proverbs, and oral history. Literacy must leave the school gates and return to the verandah, the kitchen table, and the church hall. Let us revive the oral traditions that have always nourished us but now anchor them in reading.

6) Measure what matters

Align literacy assessments with the linguistic and cultural realities of Jamaican children. Imported models that ignore bilingualism only deepen disparities.

As Kovinthan and McPherson (2023) showed, inclusive, tech-supported bilingual instruction improved literacy among struggling readers. But the success depends on political will, not just pilot projects.

Jamaica is a nation of speakers, singers, storytellers. Yet increasingly we are raising children who cannot read the very words that could shape their future. We are shouting about progress in a language our children cannot decode. That is not just sad, it is unjust.

Leadership is not just about doing what is popular, it is about doing what is right. If we are serious about literacy, then we must also be serious about language justice. Until then we will continue to produce graduates fluent in frustration and silent in hope. And the price of that silence is too high for Jamaica to afford.

Dr Tashieka Burris-Melville is a leadership and academic literacies educator in the Faculty of the Education and Liberal Studies at the University of Technology, Jamaica. Send comments to the Jamaica Observer or Tashieka.Burris@utech.edu.jm.

TASHIEKA BURRIS-MELVILLE